


Thief

by solilune



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29081073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solilune/pseuds/solilune
Summary: Jane wasn't usually the merciful type, but she still didn’t go around shooting people haphazardly or robbing people at gunpoint. Except, shehadrobbed someone at gunpoint, that someone being a random Russian kid she’d threatened near a shabby gift shop. In a moment of sympathy and remorse, Jane shows some tenderness towards him.
Relationships: Arvo & Jane (Walking Dead: No Going Back)
Kudos: 4





	Thief

* * *

_What an asshole,_ Jane thought for the millionth time that night, as Kenny walked outside to fix the truck. She peered outside the window as he tried a few things, then slammed his fists down on it in frustration, not hesitating to let out some rather colorful language. Clementine was outside too, as well as the rest of the group. 

Bonnie was on a porch smoking (which hardly came off as a surprise to Jane), Kenny was having a temper tantrum, poor Clem was sitting in the truck watching said temper tantrum, and who knew what the hell Mike was doing. They’d left her completely alone in the house they were staying in, the only company being a newborn baby who Jane- as cruel as it sounded in her head- thought shouldn’t have even been born in the first place, and a distressed Russian teen who could barely speak English. _Great._

Jane took a sip from a leather bottle of water she’d found, letting out a sigh. She then looked down at AJ next to her, who surprisingly wasn’t crying, and was rather looking up at her with large eyes. 

She scoffed lightly. “What, you want me to tell you a joke or something?”

As silly as it sounded, Jane could practically _feel_ Kenny’s eyes watching her through the window, and frowning upon every little thing she did wrong with the baby. Why the hell was he so obsessed with that kid anyway? Babies were gross, Jane knew that much, with the way they always cried and puked and shat all over everything and... _bleh_. Not to mention the pregnancy part. Jane was fairly certain she’d rather down a bottle of cyanide than have something grow inside of her. She wasn’t surprised Rebecca had died almost immediately after the fact, if anything, she would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t. She felt a little sorry for her though, her baby would have to be raised around _that_ guy.

She looked through the window again, and Kenny wasn’t looking at her this time. Instead, he was in the truck, presumably talking to Clementine. Yet another kid the douchebag happened to be completely obsessed with. 

Jane almost wished she’d left, and _stayed_ gone. She had more than enough experience with groups to know they were nothing but trouble, filled with conflict and empty promises, ultimately falling apart. And yet, she’d talked herself into coming back for a little girl less than half her age, and a guy she’d hooked up with one time who was now at the bottom of a lake?

Well, she could say now that _that_ was fucking stupid of her to do, plain and simple. All that talk of not getting attached to anyone.

Jane was pulled out of her thoughts at the sound of Arvo crying a few feet away, his arms roped to a wooden pillar. Hesitating, Jane wondered if she should’ve commented on it, but ultimately decided not to. His problems, his baggage, not hers. It wasn’t any of her business.

“Gah…Natasha…” he cried out. Jane sighed. Why did he have to put on a show the minute Jane could get anything resembling alone time?

With a shrug, Jane walked over to him, making sure to stay at least a foot away in case he thought about trying anything. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re gonna let you go once we get there. So you can stop crying,” Jane said.

“You bad people. Steal things,” he muttered.

“We needed it more. Look, I’m not some thief. No one steals these days ‘cause it’s fun.”

There wasn’t any response to that, and he continued to cry quietly, pressing his head up against the wood. Against her better judgment, Jane thought about Jaime, and their struggles being out on the road. In some awful way, Jane had come full circle. She went from being defenseless in the woods with Jaime and being robbed at gunpoint, to doing the same thing to someone Jaime’s age long after. What would Jaime have said?

Since the world went to hell, Jane had made it a priority to do whatever it took to survive with minimal guilt. Guilt was useless and a waste of time, she reasoned, and anything she could do to ensure the both of them could stay alive, she'd do. But Jane still didn’t know how she was able to do it in the first place, without immediately chickening out and suggesting they just left the place entirely. She was surprisingly able to hold it together long enough to take an entire bag full of meds, but not long enough for her to immediately get shaken and sick with guilt. Much like Kenny’s through the window, she could imagine Jaime’s eyes on her, looking upon her with disgust and questioning if Jane was still the same person she had been before, or if she’d turned into a person who could remorselessly dig through someone’s pockets while threatening them.

Jane died the same time Jaime did, she thought. The days of being merciful and _trying_ to always do the right thing (and often failing miserably) were gone, too. When walkers started eating people, Jane _had_ been dying as a person, albeit quite slowly. First when they’d gotten mugged, then when she cut all her hair off, then when she had to kill people and see _her_ group die. And then, when they had to accept they were never going home, and their parents were probably dead. No more dead than they were, it seemed. Looking down at the Russian kid, Jane was reminded of Jaime looking up at her with sad eyes, eyes that had no life left in them.

Arvo continued to say things under his breath, often in his native language with a few English words thrown in here and there. Jane imagined that he was calling her a bitch or something like that. Wouldn’t have been the first time someone had done that...

...except he started saying his sister’s name as if he was calling out to her. Jane wanted to roll her eyes again, but instead crossed her arms to her chest. She still had her doubts about whether or not Arvo’s sister was actually sick, but there was no doubting the fact she was dead. And no one knew better than her how hard it was to lose a loved one.

Jane's expression softened, as well as her voice. “You know, I had a sister too. She was, uh...” Jane rubbed her hand against her forehead before continuing, “...around the same age as yours, I think. Didn’t make it. So, uh. Yeah.”

His sniffles slowed down, but he was still very visibly upset, refusing to look her in the eye. Jane was grateful for once that he could barely speak English, and that maybe he didn’t understand half of what she said. It wasn’t his place to know, after all, and the only reason she’d tell him was because she wanted him to shut up. And maybe start hating her a little less.

A few painfully awkward seconds passed until Jane noticed Arvo longingly look at the bottle of water in her hands. “ _What?_ " she snapped, causing a flinch from Arvo. "What is it?”

“I need water...I've been, uh, very tired,” he said. There was something _pleading_ in his eyes, and Jane wanted to kick herself for even considering giving him some. Sure, he'd been Kenny's human punching bag for the past few hours, but that wasn't exactly undeserved. Pity was another feeling Jane saw as useless, maybe more so than guilt.

But another part of her couldn't help but be reminded of Jaime from all those months ago when she'd beg Jane to start their search for their parents, or to save the group, or to let her sleep for a few more hours because she didn't want to continue living. Even in death, Jaime was still able to influence Jane's actions _somehow_ , and Jane despised it. _Ugh, what the hell,_ Jane thought with a frustrated shake of her head.

“Consider this an apology," Jane said, taking a knee and putting the bottle to his lips. “Just tell me when to stop, alright?”

It _was_ an apology, in some way or another. An apology for how she was able to point a gun to his head and find it in herself to threaten him, an apology for how Kenny wouldn’t give him a break. Even if the bastard deserved it to a certain extent. The way he chugged the water down like a man in the desert, hardly breathing was enough to clue Jane in that he probably saw a drink as incredibly valuable. Jane doubted anyone was looking, but she could already tell Kenny would chew into her later if he found out.

Arvo made a faint hum, which Jane took as her cue to move the bottle from his mouth. "Thank- thank you," he said.

"...Don't mention it."

Jane went back to the seat near the window and sat next to AJ, who- for the first time that night- was sleeping soundly. _Pfft._ What did babies dream about, anyway? Probably not blood and death, which were present all too often in Jane's dreams. She briefly envied it, even if it would last only a few more years, it (he?) hadn't experienced all the horrors the world had to offer yet. She hugged a knee with one arm and looked outside again, before looking down at the bottle in her other hand.

Jaime wasn't much older than Arvo was when everything had first started, hell, Jane had been pretty young herself, with Jaime just shy of eighteen, and Jane twenty-two. Neither of them had known what to do without their parents and had to tough out months in the woods, going through four different states trying to stay alive. She'd seen a little bit of Jaime in Arvo, however small. What _would_ Jaime have said about what Jane did to Arvo?

She turned away and focused her attention outside again. As she watched the group sort out the situation with the truck, Jane wondered if she showed sympathy towards Arvo because she wanted to, or if, in a way, she still felt a certain obligation to Jaime to right her wrongs.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I have to admit I no idea why I wrote this lol. This was a scene from an old Jane fanfiction that I eventually scrapped, but I decided to finish up this particular scene and post it. Writing from Jane’s perspective is really fun, since she’s such an enigma. A lot of blanks can be filled, and I enjoy that. 
> 
> Well, that’s all! I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
